See You Later, Innovator
by xToastedZelda
Summary: Dean and Sam have been plunked into a motel and temporarily enrolled in yet another school by their father. They're getting ready to leave when there's a visitor. Kinda Wee!Chesters, a bit of Dean/OMC
1. Chapter 1

**See You Later, Innovator. **

Chapter 1

"Dean, hurry up!" Sam yelled through the bathroom door. "We're gonna be late!" He shouldered his backpack as Dean emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing from the top of the door frame.

"Shut up," the older teenager grumbled as he ran a towel over his damp hair.

Sam sighed at his brother. "You realize if we're late again, we'll get detention."

Dean shrugged. "We're just going there until Dad comes back, anyway. It's not like it matters."

Sam was about to make a bitterly repugnant reply when there was a light knock on the door. He grimaced at Dean before turning to open it.

The brothers were surprised to see an unfamiliar teenaged face greet them.

"Uh, h-hey," the blonde boy stuttered and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. "My dad's, uh, working a job with your dad and John told us where you guys were so my dad dropped me off." His voice was quiet with a slight English accent to it.

Dean dropped the towel on the couch and stepped past Sam into the boy's personal space. "And your dad is?"

He looked up at Dean for a split second before looking away with a pink tinge on his cheeks. "Mal," he said, "Mal Reynolds. I'm Lucas, by the way." Lucas hesitantly held out his hand to be shaken.

Dean slipped his hand into Lucas's as he asked, "Reynolds? Like Cassie Reynolds?" He glanced at Sam then back to the boy in front of him.

"You know Casserole?" Lucas grinned. Dean nodded. "That's my cousin. I haven't seen her in a few years."

Dean chuckled lightly. "Well, she's got a good head on her shoulders. I'm Dean and this is Sammy."

"It's Sam," he sighed as he rolled his eyes.

Lucas raised his hand in a poor attempt at a wave. "'s nice to meet you," he mumbled.

Dean stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder, leading him into the room. "Well, make yourself at home."

Sam jabbed Dean in the ribs with his elbow and hissed, "We've got school."

"Oh yeah," he grumbled. "You comin' with us?"

Lucas shook his head. "Uh, no. I-I'm not enrolled anywhere," he huffed out quickly.

"Well, then I guess I have to stay here," Dean announced, sitting down gracelessly onto one of the beds.

Lucas and Sam turned to Dean, Sam with a bitchface and Lucas with a nondescript scowl.

"You don't have to stay here, Dean. I can look after myself," Lucas said forcefully, probably the first time in his life he'd ever spoken like that to someone outside his family.

Dean blinked in surprise. "Kid, don't get me wrong, but you're scrawny. You need someone to watch you."

"He'll be fine. Besides, you still have to drive me," Sam attested and crossed his arms.

Lucas looked between the two brothers then sat down carefully on the small motel couch.

Dean sighed. "Alright, I guess we'll leave him here." He picked up his backpack from the bed and headed towards the door before turning back to Lucas. "Don't leave this room," he instructed with a pointed finger in the blonde boy's direction. "And don't let any maids in." With that, the Winchesters left the room and headed to school.

Lucas sighed and dropped his bag next to him on the couch. He unzipped the main pocket and pulled out a sketch pad and a G-2 Pilot pen. He haphazardly sketched the basic shapes of the furniture in the room before looking at it from a different angle and scrapping the page entirely and starting again. Lucas grabbed a pencil from his bag and drafted the shape of a head and shoulders onto the new paper, erasing and redrawing until it looked right. He then thought back to the boys that he'd met in the room about an hour ago. He decided he liked the ruggedness of Dean's features so he put pencil to paper and drew two piercing eyes below hard eyebrows.

After adding a jaw line, hair, and freckles, Lucas quickly shaded the sketch and called it a day, putting his supplies back into his bag and kicking it to the floor so he could stretch out on the lumpy piece of furniture. He turned on the tv with the remote and tried to find a decent channel, failing miserably. He turned the tv back off and shrugged himself into the crevice of the couch and took a nap.

When Lucas woke up, the Winchesters had returned. Dean was at the end of the couch, slapping his foot and telling him that they'd brought back food. Lucas made a noise of acknowledgment and stood, stretching his arms above his head. He walked to the table where two white paper bags holding burgers sat. Lucas peered into one and grabbed the first bundle of paper, unwrapping the burger and taking a bite, sliding into one of the cheap motel chairs.

"So what'd you do, sleep all day?" Dean asked from the edge of the bed through a huge bite of meat, lettuce, and bread.

Lucas shook his head and shrugged a bit. "I drew a little," he mumbled behind sesame seed buns. Dean's eyebrows rose with piqued interest.

"You draw?" he asked. Lucas shrugged again and nodded slightly. "Maybe you could show me some of your drawings?"

Lucas coughed into his fist and tried not to choke on his burger. There was no way he was showing Dean his drawings. He shook his head in a stuttering motion. "N-no, that's…uh, they're kinda-"

Dean held up his hand to stop the boy from rambling. "Alright, sorry. You don't have to."

Lucas shifted in his seat and slumped lower, taking a hesitant bite from the burger in his slightly trembling hands. Sam looked from the scared 14-year-old to his brother.

He cleared his throat and rested his fork in the salad he had been eating. "So, has Dad said anything about the hunt?"

Dean continued looking at Lucas for a moment before answering, "Nah, he hasn't called."

Sam nodded and looked to Lucas who shrugged, "Dad sent me a wave. Said they'd be back in a day or so."

"A wave?" Dean asked with one eyebrow raised. "As in-" he raised his hand as a demonstration, "wave?"

Lucas became flustered and shook his head. "N-no, um, like a…message?" He dropped his gaze to his lap and slid further down in his seat , tossing his burger down on the table in front of him. Sam and Dean shared a confused gaze.

"Okay…?" Dean shrugged and looked to Sam.

Lucas squirmed in his seat before muttering something and running to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it with his head in his hands. He could tell that the Winchesters thought he was weird and he'd understand if they wanted him to leave, he could be out before sundown. Out of frustration and nervousness, Lucas began heaving what little he ate of his burger into the toilet. After wiping his mouth and flushing, he heard a hesitant three-hit knock on the bathroom door.

"Lucas?" Dean's soft voice carried through the door. "You okay?"

Lucas sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and opened the door a crack. His breath hitched when he saw Dean's emerald eyes glowing with empathy. Lucas nodded tentatively.

Dean glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't looking and slid into the undersized bathroom with the nervous blonde boy, closing the door carefully behind him. Lucas was surprised to feel Dean's strong arms gather him in a hug.

* * *

**a/n:** Just real quick I'd like to say that the Cassie they talk about is another OC I have that I'm working on a fic for so look out for her. I also will probably have an actual picture of Lucas on my DeviantArt at some point and you will be notified when that happens.

And thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**See You Later, Innovator.**

Chapter 2

Lucas froze. Physical contact with someone he doesn't know made him feel like he couldn't breathe and his head started spinning. Lucas focused all his strength on pushing away the weight that constricted him. Dean knocked his hip on the doorknob and Lucas stumbled back, breathing erratically.

"Dude, hey, calm down." Dean's voice was drowned out by the blood pounding in Lucas's ears. He could feel the panic attack winding up like a typhoon ready to flood him in spastic shivers and the feeling of death on his heels.

Lucas shook his head fitfully and tried to spit out the words to tell Dean to leave. Instead he dropped down next to the shower, sitting on his feet, and held his head down between his knees. He vaguely felt a hand on his back but ignored it and continued trying to regulate his breathing.

After a few moments, he could hear the sounds in the room again. He could hear Dean whispering that it's going to be okay, he could hear Sam asking what happened from the other room. Lucas then registered the hand on his back. He didn't squirm away, this felt okay. Lucas looked up and met Dean's eyes.

Dean retracted his hand quickly. "Sorry," he whispered, eyes unwavering.

Lucas shook his head lightly. "'Sokay," he replied quietly. He slowly pushed himself off the ground, staggering slightly but steadied by Dean's hands.

"It's okay, I've got you," Dean said softly, stabilizing the younger boy against the tile wall. Once Lucas seemed to be able to stand without falling, Dean asked, "You good?" Lucas nodded his head and tried to keep his hazel eyes on Dean's green ones.

Sam pushed the door open half way. "You guys okay? What happened?"

"It's cool," Dean answered without looking away, "Lucas just, uh-"

"I'm fine," he blurted. "I'm…I'm okay." He took a hesitant step towards Dean and reached a hand out to gently touch his. He gave a curt nod before turning back into the main room.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean as Lucas passed him. "Dude, what the heck was that?"

Dean stared blankly at where Lucas had just been standing. He rubbed his hand nervously on the back of his neck. "I-I don't know, man. He just started freaking out and," he let out a sigh, "I don't know, I guess I helped him?"

"Well, what made him freak out?" Sam asked cautiously.

The older Winchester felt the heat of rushing blood in his face and turned away to hide it. He cleared his throat awkwardly before answering, voice cracking. "It's nothing, Sam, nevermind." He pushed past Sam and sat down on one of the beds, leaning back and pillowing his arms under his head.

* * *

Dean woke with a start; a cold sweat broke out on his face and chest. It was dark and the green numbers of the alarm clock glowed 2:43 am. He sat up and buried his head in his hands.

He had been dreaming about what happened that day in the bathroom when he was shocked awake.

He and Lucas were still sitting on the bathroom floor and Lucas was staring deep into Dean's eyes. Dean couldn't help but think of how close the two had gotten considering how little time they've know each other. And also, he thought about how cute the boy seemed to him…and how soft his lips looked. So he leaned closer and lightly put his lips on the boy's. That's when he woke up.

Dean quietly pulled the blankets off his legs and padded to the bathroom to splash water in his face. On his way back to the bed, he took a route slightly closer to the in-room sofa and tripped over something hard and lumpy. Dean hit the ground hard, wincing as he looked down to see what the heck he tripped on.

Lucas's backpack.

It was unzipped and Dean's fall loosened the contents enough for some of them to come spilling out, including a sketch book. Dean looked up at the couch to check that the little guy was still asleep then turned around to check on Sam, before snatching the sketch book and tiptoeing to the door.

He stood on the concrete of the outdoor hallway of the motel under the yellow glow of the light with the closed book in hand, staring at it. Lucas did get pretty worked up about the drawings earlier, maybe Dean shouldn't look, he thought. Then again, he'll never know Dean looked, so he figured it was okay.

Dean opened the hard black cover to reveal a detailed drawing of a leaf. On the page after that was a short comic depicting a person yelling at a butterfly and a scribble in the corner that said "is this a pigeon?" Dean huffed a quiet laugh before turning the page.

The third page was the most impressive portrait of anyone Dean had ever seen. And it made Dean panic a bit.

Because Lucas had drawn _him_.

Dean quickly shut the book and nearly dropped it. He silently pushed the door open and snuck back over to the boy's bag and shoved the sketch book back in it before crawling back in bed, the thoughts of what he just saw swimming in his head.

* * *

Dean laid awake in the dingy motel bed until the early traces of sunlight filtered in from the thin curtains. He groaned softly as he sat up, pissed off to have not slept. He rubbed his eyes and shuffled to the bathroom.

Lucas woke to the sound of water running muffled by a thin wall. He sat up against the back cushions and stretched his arms above his head, linking his fingers together and letting out a soft mewl. Dropping his hands, he scratched absently at his tummy and glanced over at his bag. Lucas raised an eyebrow at the sight of it. It looked like someone had gone through it.

Lucas's breath caught in his throat. Had one of the Winchesters snooped in his stuff? Did they take anything? He scrambled off the bed and grabbed it by the opening.

The sound of the shower stopped and soon after that Dean emerged from the bathroom, water droplets gliding down his chest and disappearing into the towel around his waist. Lucas looked up at him and he froze, noticing the bag in the boys hands. Dean gulped audibly and looked to where Sam was still sleeping on the other bed.

He could really use Sam's help with this one, but he's glad his brother doesn't have to be a part of this.

Dean tightened the towel around his waist and carefully went to his duffel to get clothes, watching Lucas from the corner of his eye. After returning to the bathroom with a flannel, black tee, jeans, and boxers, he leaned heavily against the door, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Lucas stared at the closed bathroom door, not moved since the discovery.

Dean emerged again after a few long moments completely dressed, toweling off his hair. He caught a glance at Lucas, still sitting on the floor clutching his bag, and sighed.

"Look, last night I tripped on your bag and stuff fell out, okay?" Dean said as he dropped the towel by the bathroom entrance. Lucas still stared at him uneasily and Dean dragged a hand over his face, slightly annoyed. He groaned, "Alright, what?"

Lucas broke eye contact to slowly look at the bag in his hands then back up at Dean. "Did you look at anything in it?" he asked with the smallest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

Dean moved to sit in front of the boy, slowly and with stuttering movements. "Yes," he sighed, looking down but glancing up to see Lucas's reaction. Lucas just stared bewildered. "I, uh...kinda looked in your...sketch book."

Lucas's eyes widened and he tried to scoot away but Dean's hand on his arm stopped him.

"No, it's okay. I...I liked it," Dean mumbled softly, keeping his eyes on Lucas. When he didn't turn away or flinch, Dean cupped his cheek in his palm and tilted his head closer, gently pressing his lips against Lucas's.

The boy let go of the bag between them and raised his hands to grab the collar of Dean's shirt, pulling him closer. Dean's lips felt warmer and softer than he ever could have imagined, and he didn't want this moment to end.

* * *

**a/n:** I haven't been getting as much positive feedback (i.e. views, follows, reviews, and favorites) with this fic as any of my other fics so there's a very good chance that I won't finish this one, or at least it won't be very long. So if you secretly liked it, oh well. But I am working on chapter three so there's that.

(ps: I still have a few Destiel fics in the works so don't give up on me, I'm just stuck. c: )


	3. Chapter 3

**See You Later, Innovator.**

Chapter 3

There was a rustling sound from the bed. Dean quickly pulled away from Lucas and stood up, only holding out his hand to help up the boy as a second thought. He glanced at the bed Sam was in. Sure enough, the moose was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Has Dad called yet?" he asked through a yawn.

Dean was about to answer when the door swung open. John stumbled in with a bloodied-up, unconscious man draped over his shoulder.

"Dad!" Lucas cried, eyes wide. He approached John quickly, helping him lay Mal on the bed. "What happened?" he asked John sternly, not looking away from his father, taking in his injuries. Mal had three six-inch-long gashes down his chest and dark bruises were blooming across his face. His grey shirt had been ripped to shreds and was dripping with thick blood.

Dean handed John their medical kit while John spoke. "Werewolf." He concentrated on getting the needle and thread out of the plastic container. "Jumped him." John reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a flask of whiskey, setting it aside as he began stitching up the wounds. "Killed it, but there could be more." He grunted softly as he pushed through the skin for the final stitch. "Pack your weapons, boy. We're headin' out in an hour." He tied the thread to itself and uncapped the flask, pouring it gently into the sutures.

Dean and Sam looked at each other then Dean looked at Lucas. "What about him?" he asked, gesturing to the blonde boy sitting next to the other man on the bed.

John looked away from his work to nod at Lucas. "He'll stay here with Mal."

"Um," Lucas croaked then cleared his throat, "I-I think I could be – I mean, I could help." His words stuttered in the presence of the Winchester patriarch.

John studied Lucas and sighed. "Look, kid, I'm sure you're a good hunter, but–"

"I'm a great hunter," Lucas blurted, interrupting him. John raised his eyebrow in surprise. "I..." The blonde boy slumped and muttered quietly. "I'm a great hunter."

John rubbed a hand down his face. "Well, someone has to stay here with your father."

It was as if the word 'father' was an alarm because suddenly Mal was sitting up and looking in every direction around the room. Lucas turned at the movement and gripped his father's broad shoulders.

"Where am I?" Mal asked exasperatedly, his voice still rough from not having used it in a while, and with the same slight English accent to it as Lucas, maybe thicker.

"You're in a motel with the Winchesters," Lucas answered calmly, loosening his grip.

Mal turned to John, hissing at the pain in his torso. "What happened?"

"Werewolf attacked you," he said simply. "If I wasn't there..." His voice trailed off and he turned away from the small group, putting a hand over his face.

Mal scooted closer to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor, leaning out carefully to John with one hand on his abdomen. "Hey, dude, it's okay."

John twisted around to face the group again and heaved a heavy sigh. "No, it's not," he grumbled. "It's not okay, I should have stopped it before it got to you." John dropped his arms dejectedly. "C'mon, boys," he mumbled to the two oldest, "Get your stuff, we're heading out."

Dean made eye-contact with Lucas who shrugged then looked back to Mal. Should I go with them?" he asked sheepishly.

Mal was nodding 'yes' while John was shaking his head 'no.'

Lucas knitted his eyebrows together at the eldest Winchester. "Why not?"

John was about to speak when Mal put his hand on Lucas's shoulder. "Go, son," he said, "they'll need all the help they can get."

John stared at the small family on the bed and crossed his arms menacingly. "We don't need any more –"

Dean cleared his throat, loudly, reminding them that they're all still in the same room. "Dad, come on," he nudged.

John thought motionless for a moment. "Alright, he can come," he groaned.

The four hunters were stealthily scanning the area where John had found the werewolf, hoping to find the others and dutifully kill them. They each had silver blades of varying sizes wielded, John also equipped with a pistol loaded with silver rounds. The group spread out in different directions to better survey the area.

Dean was carefully rounding the corner of a steel structure when he heard a low growl. He held his blade out in the direction of the noise. The werewolf sprung from the darkness and lunged toward him. Dean tried to stab it but it averted the blade and knocked it far out of his hands as it attacked him.

The others had been far away but one person in particular had heard the altercation and Dean's cry for help. Lucas sprinted to the two figures rolling around on the ground and kicked the werewolf off Dean and stabbed it hard in the chest.

When he was sure it was dead, he unsheathed the knife from the body and wiped the blood off on his pants. Lucas turned to look at Dean who was lucky to get away with only minor cuts and bruises. Lucas heaved a sigh of relief and held out his hand to help Dean up.

Dean stared at him for a moment once he was standing. "You're, uh..." he coughed awkwardly, "you're a good hunter. We shouldn't have underestimated you."

Lucas nodded slightly with a muttered, "Th'nks."

Dean smirked before glancing over his shoulder and, seeing that no one was around, he pressed a chaste kiss to Lucas's lips.

"What was that for?" Lucas asked quietly.

"You kinda...saved my life," Dean answered with a playful nudge to the boys arm.

Lucas his his blush behind his hand. "Nah…You could've done that."

Dean scoffed. "Dude, no way. That werewolf was about to kill me," he insisted, taking a half step closer to the boy. He slipped his arms around him and brought him delicately to his chest.

"Is this okay?" Dean whispered. He remembered what happened last time he tried to hug Lucas. He felt the boy nod against his chest in response and he let out a short breath of relief before hugging him tighter.

"Aw, how cute," a condescending voice deadpanned from behind them. Dean released Lucas and quickly turned around.

"Shut up, Sam," he replied, stuttering slightly out of nervousness.

* * *

**a/n: **yeah so that's probably all there is to this story *shrugs*


End file.
